


First Christmas (A Lashton Story)

by Honeyedlashton



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Christmas fic, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, M/M, Slow Burn, bottom!Luke, preestablished malum, top!ashton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27752302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeyedlashton/pseuds/Honeyedlashton
Summary: Ashton has never really cared about Christmas, and Luke has never been able to celebrate it. But after inviting Luke to stay at Michael, Calum, and his apartment for the holidays, Ashton starts to see a glimpse of that coveted holiday magic through someone else's eyes. And he almost hopes to feel it himself.ORLuke and Ashton meet on Thanksgiving and agree to have their first (real) Christmases together, and spend the thirty days before falling in love not only with the holiday, but with each other.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin, Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Thanksgiving Night (Baby Please Come Home)

Christmas was never Ashton's style. Plain and simple. He hated the songs, he thought they were annoying earworms. He didn't like the cheesy movies. The idea of drinking eggnog made him sick. There was nothing except for the occasional present from a co-worker—more often than not it was just a mass produced Christmas card with cash in it—that would sway his staunch apathy towards the most wonderful time of the year.

He wasn't a bitch about it. He just didn't care. The decorations were pretty, and everyone was somewhat nicer. He just didn't feel especially holly or jolly when he had to use his credit card to scrape ice off his car at 6 am. And he especially didn't feel the need to fake it for anyone—well, except his roommates.

Every year Calum and Michael, said roommates, decorated the apartment and put up the Christmas tree in the living room and all. He'd buy them a year supply of k-cup hot chocolates, or write them a check,or get something he knew they'd use, and that would be that.

But those two...they loved Christmas. It was their favorite holiday. They went all out. They always gave the best gifts too. Made Ashton almost feel guilty, but it was just their thing. Making people feel good on Christmas. They started early and they started big.

So needless to say, as soon as Thanksgiving's dishes were washed, it was time for the Christmas festivities to begin. The tree came out of the closet and up bright in the living room. The warm white lights, the tinsel, the ornaments were all put up in a matter of hours. The Christmas music? That had already been playing since early November.

Ashton watched fondly as the pair tussled over which tree topper they were gonna put up this year.

"It's gotta be the star," Michael held up the glittering golden star that was gaudy, yet surprisingly lighter than it looked. "You know how my mother will get if we don't use the star."

"The angel is nice," Calum retorted. "And you bought it last year specifically to use this year. Cmon, it also goes with this year's theme better."

"But if my mother comes over and see's we aren't using her star again she'll be hurt."

"Well it's not your mother's Christmas, is it? It's ours. And I know you like the angel more," Calum told him with raised brows. "Why else would you have bought this with your own money?"

"But I don't wanna make her think I don't like it," Michael pouted.

"Mikey," Calum put his arm around Michael in a loving embrace. "You _don't_ like it. And you don't have to feel guilty for that. It's her style, not yours."

Michael nodded softly. "Okay. Then I want the angel."

Calum kissed Michael's nose sweetly and got the angel out. It was made from round blown glass. It was incredibly delicate with no hard edges, so Calum took care setting it next to the tree to put on later. "Besides this thing gives me a good feeling. Somebody knock on wood, but I already can't imagine Christmas without it."

As if on cue Michael's phone rang, and it chimed through the Bluetooth speaker, making Ashton jump at the sudden change. The harsh ringtone had cut Michael Bublé off mid: _"baby, please come home!"_

Michael answered and the speaker went silent, instead channeling directly into Michael's ear. The voice only barely detectable from where Ashton laid on the couch. He examined the glass of bourbon in his hands until Michael's voice changed from the dulcet "hello?" To the more intense, "slow down...what happened?"

Ashton forgot his glass of whisky then, focusing on Michael's face. The faint cries of the distant caller. Anything so he could hear better, yet he couldn't hear anything.

"Yes. Of course you can! Do you need me to come pick you up?" Michael glanced with nervous eyes at Calum, who seemed just as riveted as Ashton. "Okay," Michael said after a second. "And you're okay to drive? Do you want me to stay on the phone? Okay...just let me know when you get here. I'll meet you at the car."

Michael hung up and looked at both of them with wide eyes. "Luke got kicked out..."

Ashton had no idea who this was, but he felt horrible already.

"I told him it was okay if he stayed with us..." Michael looked at Calum. The Maori boy's eyes were widened with fear.

"Well yeah," Calum nodded without hesitation. "That's fine, obviously. Is he alright?"

"I think he was in shock. He said his parents got really mad at him and told him to get out of the house." Michael bit his lip. "He said he didn't know for how long..."

"I've got a blanket and some pillows he can use," Ashton said simply, feeling the wave of sadness at the story.

When Michael finally got the call that Luke had arrived he raced downstairs. Leaving Ashton and Calum along with the large faux-down comforter andfluffy pillows on the sofa. Ashton shook his leg as they waited.

"God, I need to smoke already," Calum rubbed his face.

Ashton nodded in understanding—but only partially understanding the magnitude despite his efforts.

The key turned in the door and he stood up and turned around. Ashton could hear Michael's muffled voice through the door, but it was only muffled for a second as it opened. "Don't apologize, Lukey, of course you're welcome here." Michael gushed letting in the tall blonde boy.

Ashton focused on him almost with a tunnel vision like focus. He was beautiful, his hair curled around his ears. His lips were full with perfect teeth under them. His eyes were puffy and small from long dried tears. He was dressed in a soft light heather grey sweatshirt tucked into equally soft light blue jeans. Not a hard edge on him. He was soft.

Luke carried two duffel-style bags, and Michael had another two in his hands. "Thank you," the blonde said in one of the most gentle voices Ashton had ever heard.

Ashton was sure he had met Luke, but only in passing. He'd been over for study groups with Calum and Michael. He'd said hello, but he didn't know him well enough to put a face to the name.

He'd never looked at Luke really, but now he was the star of the show. And he wanted him to feel important, especially because of the circumstances.

"You want something to drink?" Michael asked him after they'd set the bags down. Luke shook his head.

"No, thank you. I'm sorry, I know you guys were decorating the tree..."

"That's no big deal," Calum cooed softly. "You're way more important than our plastic tree." Calum promised gently.

Luke nodded and sat down cross legged on the couch. Michael and Calum fell beside him, in a caring way. It reminded Ashton of the way parents were supposed to comfort their children. "I came out," Luke said after a second, not needing to raise above a little more than a whisper because of the quiet. "I finally told my parents who I really am, and they told me that god hates me and that I'm unnatural."

Michael sat beside him rubbing his back. "Oh my god," he whispered.

"Some 'Christians...'" Luke scoffed bitterly—somehow even that was soft in Ashton's ears. "My brothers were a treat, too. They love the nickname 'faggot.'"

Ashton glanced at Luke's fidgety hands.

"Fuck them," Michael shook his head. "They have no right to treat you like that. You're still a person. You're still their kid." The older boy hugged him.

Luke nodded. "Yeah...that's what happened. Just so you guys know. And I don't really wanna talk about it too much, if you don't mind..." his brows were only slightly wrinkled on his otherwise emotionless face. "You guys can go back to decorating the room. I don't wanna get in the way of tradition."

Calum gave Luke a gentle, empathetic nod and squeezed his hands in reassurance. He went back to work on the tree. Michael cut on the music again, but at a softer volume this time to join him.

Ashton and Luke remained planted on the couch. And eventually when Luke seemed to be feeling less awkward, Ashton noticed the blonde was looking at the tree non-stop. His eyes were big and longing, like a kid looking in a candy store window.

Ashton had to force himself to look away, cause he didn't wanna stare at him, but in the glow of the tree, he looked a beautiful kind of sad. He got up instead and poured himself another glass of bourbon.

"I've never celebrated Christmas before," Luke said, still not looking away from the tree, but somehow Ashton knew it was directed at him. "That's why I'm staring. It's beautiful."

"It is," Ashton hummed from the kitchen counter using only the candles and Christmas lights to see how much he poured. He got a glass of coke for Luke to drink and set it in front of him. "These two always put on a great show for the holidays."

Luke clutched his glass and took slow sips, eyes finally breaking away from the tree. "I've heard a lot about you, Ashton." Luke spoke in his sweet dulcet voice. Ashton knew next to nothing about Luke in exchange.

"Good things?" He raised his brows.

"I'd say so," Luke nodded. "I know you don't really celebrate Christmas either."

"I'm no Scrooge, but I'm not exactly the type to deck the halls either."

Luke almost cracked a smile, but it wasn't sweet like his voice, or kind at all. It was bitter. Longing. "You take it for granted. I'd give anything to do it..."

"Who says you can't?"

"Everyone in my Seventh Day Adventist church," Luke began. "My family. My—. My..." Ashton watched Luke's face contort in thought. "No one..."

"Seventh Day Adventist? Yeah, it's starting to come together now..." Ashton nodded. He thought about what Luke had said and the look in his eyes as he stared at the tree. He would very much like to see that look on Luke's face again. "You know what I say?"

Luke tore his eyes away from where they had fixed themselves on the white crushed velvet tree skirt. "What?"

"You're here now, and you wanna be apart of Christmas," Ashton shrugged. "So let's make you apart of it."

Luke's eyes widened. "I couldn't," he shook his head.

"Why not?"

"I've never done it. I don't have anything. No stocking, no traditions, no _money_...plus if my parents find out..."

"That stuff doesn't matter," Ashton waved his hand as off to physically push that statement away. "Especially not with these two. If you tell them you want to celebrate they'll bend over backwards to help you."

"I don't want to be a burden," Luke whispered.

"No one would think that about you," Ashton told him firmly. "You're with us this year—at least for all we know—and Calum and Michael have a habit of helping others get into the Christmas spirit."

"Just not you, right?"

"Well, maybe this year I'll finally get the knack for it," Ashton teased.

Luke looked at his drink with a soft smile. "Alright," he nodded after a second. "But I don't want to be the only one of us celebrating."

"Don't set your expectations too high," Ashton warned, "but I'll give it a shot. Only because it's your first time."

"In a way it could be yours, too," Luke pointed out with a gentle smirk.

Ashton watched the corners of Luke's mouth relax as the music filled in the quiet, and he thought—for maybe the first time in his memory—that maybe the music wasn't annoying like this.


	2. It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Extra Hassle

"The list of movies is key," Michael lectured Ashton and Luke at the table the next morning over their breakfast and cups of coffee. "You have to have the right list. And it's like a tradition."

Luke was taking it all in with sleepy, still puffy eyes. Ashton had heard the boy's soft crying outside his room the night before. He had laid there in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the gentle sniffs with a frown.

He'd imagined walking out, pretending to get a glass of water, and then talking to him. Or helping him feel less alone. He imagined wrapping his arm around the crying blonde. He imagined letting him cry into his shoulder and hugging him tight.

He did none of those things.

Instead he lay for hours imagining this is the moment. He could almost feel the fibers of carpet under his bare feet. The cool doorknob on his fingers. The displacement of air through his hair as the door opened. But he never left the bed.

He instead curled to the side and let Luke make his own peace. There would be more opportunities to help than 3 am.

"So what is your Christmas movie list?" Luke's tired voice snapped Ashton back to the present.

"We have it written down here," Michael grabbed a purple and yellow journal that had a cropped drawing of a person, from the forehead up with cat ears that held all their important lists. It lived on the end table by the couch and caught all their lists—Christmas or other wise. "There are some throw-aways in here but mostly these are the movies we're watching."

"Thirty days of Christmas?" Luke asked looking at the dates on the side of each title.

"Yeah, but after twenty-two, the amount of partridges starts to look the same," Ashton added sipping his black coffee.

"Joke all you want, it's magical." Michael huffed at him.

"I think that sounds nice," Luke cooed, his voice still tired and soft. "I like the evenness of it." Michael smiled. "Plus I've always wanted to watch _Barbie's Nutcracker_."

"Well that's one of the throw-away ones, but since you want it we'll watch it," Michael grinned at him.

Luke smiled softly and ate his toast—which he'd buttered and cut into triangles. Ashton compared it to his own large singular slice of toast, where he was forced to face the crust. Not that he cared. He just thought it was neat to know Luke thinks to cut his toast, when he himself hadn't considered the idea since seven-years-old.

Michael was chattering about coordinating wrapping paper with each person and still getting tags—something Ashton didn't find too interesting, so he instead kept his focus on Luke. "Sleep alright?"

Luke nodded, and Ashton knew it was a lie. "Like a baby."

Ashton laughed. "The pull-out couch is rough so we'll see about getting at least an air mattress."

Luke shook his head furrowing his brows a bit in thought. "No don't. It's alright. I'll get something if I need it. The couch is fine."

"You sure?" Ashton asked gently.

Luke nodded wordlessly.

Ashton didn't push more. He let Luke go back to reading and nibbling at his toast. "Oh I've seen some of the Simpson's Christmas episodes before. It was only ever when I went to my cousin's house. But I've seen a few."

"It's never a skip," Michael cooed.

Calum came in then, already dressed and holding his keys. "What the hell are you guys doing not dressed?"

Ashton looked at him with confused eyes. "Huh?"

"It's fucking Black Friday, get up! We've gotta go fight people over some holiday shit," he urged. "It's an especially important part of Christmas. And if you two are celebrating, you better get your asses in gear."

Luke jumped up, and Ashton watched the light enter his eyes that the coffee previously wasn't providing. "Ooh can we get a stocking too?"

"We'll get whatever you want as long as we're in the car in the next 5 minutes," Calum barked. And even though Ashton knew he was kidding, he didn't want to see Calum get actually upset. So he put on some real pants and was in the car within the given time frame.

Luckily the store wasn't as packed as the parking lot made it seem. It was still full—but not to the same extent.

"God I forgot about this wretched, capitalist scam of a day." Ashton muttered.

"It always made my parents stressed out," Luke told him softly, "So if they wanted deals we just ordered things online. I've only ever been inside a store on Black Friday once. With my cousin."

"Sounds like you had a lot of fun with your cousin," Ashton cooed.

"More or less," Luke shrugged, "Looking back I would have enjoyed being around them a lot more if I would have realized I was brainwashed against her and the things she liked."

The almost dismissive tone of Luke's voice made Ashton do a double take, but he didn't say anything else about it. "There are some stockings over here if you wanna look."

Luke nodded and they broke away from Calum and Michael towards the smaller crowd surrounding he stockings. It was a few hours after the store had opened, so needless to say they were already pretty picked over.

Ashton was looking for one for himself in the pile of ugly ones. Burlap. Fleece. Red and green chevron. Chevron and burlap! Granted, there were nicer ones. He didn't completely hate the grey faux fur one he found. In fact he liked it enough to pick it up so the swarm around him wouldn't take it from him before he'd made his decision.

Luke reached at the same time but for a different one. It was hiding under a heap of horrific design quality that just reeked of breeder, but Luke had seen it. It was the same faux fur material as the grey one Ashton was holding—so it was velvety cool, and left marks where the fur was disturbed by curious fingers. And it was the most gorgeous shade of pale blue with gold thread embroidered stars. Somehow it wasn't tacky. Luke hugged it close to his chest. "This one," he cooed softly.

Ashton flipped his over to find that his had silver stars embroidered on his. "Yeah?" Ashton, nodded. "This one for me too."

"Don't you already have a stocking?" Luke eyed the grey one in his hand.

"Yeah, but it looks like that," Ashton pointed to one of the generic red and white stockings.

"Oh. Ew."

Ashton smirked at Luke's scrunched face. "It's not a good texture either." Ashton rubbed his palm against his pants in memory of the feeling of the fabric on his fingers.

Luke bit his lip. "And so these are filled with small things right?"

"Honestly I think it's a big ploy cause people got tired of wrapping tiny shit in paper."

"I'd like to see you wrap _anything_." Luke giggled.

"Oh it's not my style. I'm the gift bag guy," Ashton hummed telling the joke almost like he was proud of it.

"Oh. _Ew_ ," Luke scrunched his nose again. This time on a giggle.

"What? It saves time!"

"I thought Christmas was all about love and dedicating time to the ones you care about."

"Well yeah but, it's more loving of me to stay away from tape and wrapping paper forever."

"Or maybe you just don't wanna learn."

Ashton thought about it. "It just seems like too much hassle to me. I'm laid back."

"You?" Luke laughed. "I don't get that feeling from you at all. If anything, you're the opposite of laid back."

Ashton couldn't even deny it. "Yeah...maybe you're right."

Luke smiled and looked at all the barely discounted items. "You know this whole Black Friday thing isn't as cool as they made it seem."

"It never is. It's just crowded and picked over."

"The people here are just rude. I keep getting bumped into," Luke rubbed his shoulder after yet another person had forced their way past him.

"They're ruthless. You think you're gonna be okay? Or you want me to cause a riot?" Ashton cooed low to him.

Luke smiled a little. "Riot...but then again no. I don't wanna be those people."

"You'd rather get bumped into?"

Luke nodded. "I'll just intentionally not move out of the way."

"Well..." the older boy began a little more protective than joking. "You say the word, and we'll become _those_ people." 

Luke giggled softly. "Thanks for the sentiment at least, Ash."

Ashton paid for his and Luke's stockings and a couple tubes of wrapping paper Luke insisted he get. "I'll pay you back, when I get some money..."

"No no..." Ashton shook his head. "Don't worry about it. It's only a few dollars."

"No," Luke shook his head. "No I need to pay you back."

Ashton raised his brows. "I promise it's no big deal."

Luke stayed quiet and accepted the bag gently. "Thank you..."

"Yeah, any time. It's the Christmas spirit," Ashton hummed jovially—though he'd never felt the Christmas spirit once in his life. Luke's smile faded and Ashton found himself filling in the empty silence. "Besides with all the shit you talked to me about my wrapping skills, I wanna see what you can do..."

"Oh it'll be awful," Luke giggled softly. "I've never wrapped a present a day in my life, I don't even know how to do it."

"We can learn together, maybe?" There was an edge of hopefulness in Ashton's voice that he hadn't expected to be there. "I imagine that god-forsaken skill is better with a second person."

"Okay," Luke smiled softly. "I'd like that. Just, don't make fun of my skills..."

Ashton smirked, "my lips—unlike every gift I'll wrap—are sealed. Besides, making fun of someone for something they're learning isn't my style."

"Who knows, maybe it'll be worth the work."

Ashton smiled at Luke's naive fondness. He nodded and bumped their shoulders. "Who knows..."


	3. Santa Baby

By the first of December things were a little more comfortable. Luke and Ashton had spent some quality time learning to wrap boxes. Michael had had the idea to teach them with newspaper and old Amazon boxes they had lying around.

They were...okay at it. Not terrible, but Ashton knew they weren't gonna win any awards with their skills.

"Honestly as long as it's covered, it'll be perfect," Michael smiled with their three boxes in various stages of the wrapping process. "And you guys aren't bad is the thing. I've done—and seen—a _lot_ worse."

"Are you talkin shit about my wrapping skills?" Calum called from the kitchen as he poured himself coffee. "I couldn't give a fuck about wrapping paper, you know. My hands aren't steady enough to do that shit right."

"I know, baby." 

"So if it's a gift from me, appreciate the inside of the wrapping paper more than the outside," Calum leaned against the counter as he gestured his coffee mug at the three of them.

Luke giggled and Ashton watched him inspect his own newspaper wrapped box. It was somewhat messy—but it was neater than Ashton's. He wasn't comparing the two, he was just amazed that someone who had never wrapped before could do such a nice job. It wasn't professional grade, but it was a hell of an intermediate attempt.

Ashton looked to his own barely recognizable box. If anything it looked like a half blown up beach ball. "I guess same for me..." he pushed on the bulging paper sides.

Luke giggled. "So no gift bags this year?"

"We'll see..." Ashton grimaced at the idea of whatever shitty gifts he was gonna end up getting them all wrapped up like this in some sort of tacky wrapping paper."Only if it's for the greater good..."

Luke laughed a little, and Ashton liked the sound of that.

Michael meanwhile was hugging Calum close and cooing to him that he loved his wrapping skills. "I never know what's inside the paper, and isn't that the whole point?" He cooed nosing at Calum's neck.

Ashton who normally just ignored Calum and Michael's affections in an attempt to give them privacy, suddenly looked away for a different reason. It wasn't quite jealousy, yet he couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe he just wanted the sweetness of that exchange.

Maybe longing for the sweetness was jealousy.

His eyes fell on the sweetest thing he could think of. "I'm gonna go get some lunch,” Luke looked up as he spoke. “You wanna come with me? I'll let you control the music."

Luke nodded softly, and for a moment Ashton thought his eyes had that same longing glint he assumed his own had.

Luke’s music taste was different than Ashton was expecting. But then again, when he started playing Good Charlotte, it didn’t seem too far off.

“I didn’t expect ‘Sex on the Radio’ to be in your repertoire,” Ashton cooed.

“We’ll just because I was in a cult-like situation, doesn’t mean I didn’t have a mind of my own.” Luke hummed, “I started cramming my floorboards full of CD’s my parents wouldn’t like when I was fifteen.”

Ashton raised his brows. “Did you get them before you left?” He asked feeling anxious in place of the seemingly care-free boy.

“I don’t care if they find it now. I’m eighteen and gay and living away from them. They thought I lived in sin even when I didn’t so...whatever,” Luke shrugged, his words cutting dull and indifferent. “If they find hordes of CD’s I had when I started to grow up on my own, they can keep them. They might learn something.”

Ashton nodded softly, “I’m sorry they treat you like you’re not allowed to be yourself. Or like the things you want.”

Luke just stared out the window for a second. “Well we couldn’t all three be the perfect children.” He conceded almost bitterly. “But no...that’s a lie. It’s the parent’s job to love unconditionally, and it’s the kid’s job to figure themselves out...their _only_ job.”

Ashton nodded and looked at him at the stop light, unsure of what to say. He was convinced that topics like this were riddled with things that shouldn’t be said. But inside he was full of grief for this innocent child Luke once was. And even if Ashton didn’t know all the details, abuse is abuse. Especially if the abused knows about it. “I’m glad you’re out of that situation,” Ashton whispered softly with a slight smile. “You don’t have to hide anything anymore.”

Luke smiled that wan smile, empty around of anything around the eyes. Even sadness. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Ashton took off again when the light was green.

“I don’t know why I went off on that,” Luke shifted in his seat after a long pause of no one saying anything. “I’m good at oversharing...”

Ashton shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you did. I mean, I might not know what to say, but I’m always a friend if you need someone to talk to. You are never a bother to me...”

“Thank you, Ashton,” Luke’s voice was softer than before. Hesitant but genuine.

Ashton smiled, so continued on, building the mood back up, “besides, I think your music taste is really nice. And you’re funny.”

“You think I’m funny?”

“Yeah, I like your humor. It’s sweet and—well dorky, but not in a lame way. I mean it as in a genuinely funny and sweet way,” Ashton hummed.

“Dorky...” the blonde echoed looking at his fingers, and Ashton was convinced he’d said it the wrong way. He was about to open his mouth to correct himself when Luke cut him off, “cause you know, I could say the same thing for _your_ humor.” His perfect smile was only half formed when he looked at Ashton.

“My humor is neither sweet, nor funny,” the older boy retorted, admiring Luke with fond eyes.

“You’re right. Snide is more the word I’m looking for.”

“I’ll admit it, I’m a bitch.”

“Yeah...but maybe you’re a little funny...” Luke purred softly.

“You have no idea how much _that_ just boosted my ego. I’ll be set for at least the next six—maybe eight months?” Ashton hummed in a cocky tone. “I _am_ an egomaniac after all.”

The blonde rolled his eyes fondly, “I never said you were _always_ funny. Only _sometimes_.”

“Nope! No, you said it!” Ashton hummed smugly. “And it’s enough, baby. It’s only gonna get worse from here,”

“Oh great...” Luke sighed melodramatically, but his smile was fully formed now, and that’s all Ashton wanted.

Inside the restaurant, just a regular Tex-Mex style place, everything was decked out for Christmas. Red, blue, and green fairy lights hung suspended over the bar and doorways. The Poinsettias sat in their plastic pots—with the fancy paper around it that distracted from that fact. They were placed in unused chairs as makeshift tables, and most of the flowers were in the process of blooming. An upbeat Christmas song sung in Spanish filtered through the speakers as Ashton and Luke sat across each other in a booth.

Luke crunched on a chip with salsa on it and hummed. “What?” He asked with his mouth half full when he noticed Ashton’s eyes on him.

And this was was news to Ashton, who hadn’t noticed where his eyes were. “Hmm?” He asked and shifted in his seat as if to get more comfortable.

“You’re watching me eat,” Luke had swallowed at this point.

“Shit, am I? Sorry. Lost in thought...” The issue was: he didn’t know what he was thinking of. He couldn’t remember what it was. Actually, he might have been thinking about Luke. Was it their car conversation?

“Do I have salsa on my face or something?” The blonde wiped the corners of his mouth instinctively.

“No no,” Ashton shook his head. “Nothing like that. I was spaced out. It’s not you.” But it was. And he couldn’t put his finger on it.

There were a few beats of uneasy silence before Luke spoke up. “Have you finished your Christmas list yet?”

“No. Not yet. I still don’t know what the fuck I’ll want,” Ashton sighed. “What about you? How are you faring?”

“Pretty good, I’d say,” the younger boy pulled out his phone with a little smile and slid it to him. “Read this if you want...”

Ashton took the phone and scrolled. “Holy shit...” he raised his brows. “Have you been making this list for years?”

“No, I started after we got back Friday.”

“Wow, you have a much better grasp on what you want than I do...”

“I always know what I want. I’m very decisive.”

“And expensive...”

“Oh, well...not everything on the list is for now,” the blonde reached for his phone, almost hastily.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with it,” Ashton promised. “You know I think that, right?”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded.

“Good cause I would never.” Ashton tried to catch Luke’s eyes again. “It’s your first Christmas. If you wanted the moon, I’d find a way to get it for you, you know?”

Luke finally looked up. Blue eyes meeting hazel. “Thankfully, I don’t need the moon this year,” He sighed. He looked emotionally tired—a sharp turn from where he was upbeat and happy a moment ago. “Maybe the sun though.”

Ashton chuckled, momentarily thinking he was off the hook. But for what? He didn’t know.

“You’re my friend, right?” Luke asked softly after Ashton had dug into his chicken tamales.

“Of course.”

“So you wouldn’t make fun of me?”

“ _Never_.” Ashton promised.

“Well, sometimes the way you word things makes me feel like you are,” Luke’s voice was steady. “And then you’ll say something to cover it up like you’re not. And I don’t like that. It’s what kids at school would do to me. And I don’t wanna put you in the same category as the people who bullied me.”

Ashton softened. “Oh Lu...no. No, I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget to put the humor away. I’ll find some way of expressing it that isn’t at your expense if it would make you feel better about the situation.”

“I’d really appreciate that,” he nodded, and his cheeks were bright pink. And Ashton thought it wasn’t from how cold it was outside.

“No, I promise I’m gonna get you anything you want. Send me a list and I’ll get you whatever you ask. It’s Christmas, and it’s gonna be special for you,” Ashton hummed. “Call me Santa.”

“And they told me he didn’t exist,” Luke hummed with a little smile.

“He does this year,” Ashton smirked, glad to have things cleared up with Luke. For some reason, the absolute last thing he wanted was to make Luke upset ever, ever again. “Besides, don’t I look a little ruddy to you?”


	4. Baby, It’s Cold Outside

"God, I hate finals," Luke groaned, pushing his hair back behind his ears as he pulled away from his books. Ashton raised his brows. "My professors wanna see me dead."

Ashton giggled softly. "I'm sure they don't," he cooed.

"You read half as much as I have to read, and then tell me that, smart guy," Luke huffed rubbing his eyes. "I'm exhausted. How the hell am I supposed to enjoy the holiday when I have _this_?"

"Why do you think I've tried to put it off all these years?"

"I mean, I know I have only one more week of this, but it might kill me before then..."

"Don't work. Yourself to death over it," Ashton furrowed his brows. He knew Luke had only meant it figuratively. "Close your book."

"I can't. There's too much," Luke shook his head and looked at Ashton with tired, pouty eyes.

"You're not gonna learn everything there is to know about music theory tonight, Lu," Ashton coaxed the book from Luke's grip. He closed it gently. "Besides cramming just makes you forget faster."

"I'm aware, I just don't have a choice."

"Well you've still got a week. All you have to give is an hour a day...tops. Good news though, it's time to clock out for the day." Ashton watched Luke's face as he put the book on the table. "You're too worked up about this."

"Well, my future is determined by these finals..." Luke looked at him with tired eyes.

"It's not as painful as it seems..." Ashton gushed and rubbed Luke's arm. "Come here. Let's get you something to calm down. Hmm?"

Luke sighed and pushed his chair back. "Like what? A bullet to the head?"

Ashton smirked and cut the light on in the kitchen. "You've been hanging out with me too much," he purred and pulled out a couple short glasses. "You ever drank before?"

"With Michael and Calum, yeah."

"Good, so you know what you like."

"Fruity stuff," Luke bit his lip. "I hate the taste of the alcohol."

Ashton pulled a cherry coke from the fridge and the rum down from the cabinet. "You're not the only thing our landlord can't know about," he winked, and poured Luke a big glass.

"That's plenty..." but Ashton kept pouring till it reached the top of the glass.

"Merry Christmas," Ashton handed Luke the full cup, careful not to spill it down the sides.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Luke looked from the drink to Ashton and back again.

"No. Whatever you don't finish, I will," Ashton promised, pouring himself an equally large cup. He clinked their glasses and took the first sip. He watched Luke's face soften from worried to something else. "It's good isn't it?"

"I barely taste it."

"That's the point." Ashton put the bottles back on the shelf and sat on the couch. He cut on the T.V. and gave Luke the remote. "Choose whatever you wanna watch—as long as you don't bring up what you should be doing otherwise."

Luke nodded and took the remote. He decided on a cartoon to just have in the background. "Thank you," Luke cooed after a second.

"For what?"

"I'm too stressed out. You're right."

Ashton hummed. "I see it all the time. I'm just doing for you what I wish I could have done myself. Finals are big, but they're not life altering if you really care. Relax. You're gonna do fine."

Luke smiled softly and offered part of his blanket to him. The fluffy white comforter was big enough to stretch across the whole couch so Ashton took it with a smile.

"Maybe we should offer Calum and Michael some," Luke cooed holding his drink like a cross.

"I think they're asleep. I'll text them."

"No," Luke cooed, the soft glow of the lamplight and Christmas tree illuminated his skin as a soft golden sculpture. A moving sculpture, but he still looked crafted and beautiful. Again, no hard edges. "If they come in we'll offer, but otherwise, we should let them get their rest."

Ashton hummed and sipped his own. He'd put more rum in his cause he didn't mind the taste. It wouldn't affect him till later. And right now he was enjoying the show with Luke. Sneaking glances at him every now and then to see how the drink was sitting with the blonde.

Luke finished his drink first and held it out for Ashton to take. He then giggled, seemingly realizing he hadn't spoken. "Oh sorry...can you get me another one, please?"

Ashton smiled and nodded, finishing his own in only a few gulps. "Yeah, no problem," he cleared his throat. He came back with fresh ones.

"Thank you!" Luke cooed with a little smile he'd only seen sometimes. "It's _really_ good."

"You're not a lightweight are you?" Ashton hummed. He could feel the prickles in his fingertips when he moved—the telltale sign he'd had something to drink.

"Oh yeah!" The blonde went from emphatic to unsure in only a few seconds, "well... _maybe_. I don't know, I've only drank a few times."

"Then after this one your getting cut off." Ashton was mostly teasing, but he wasn't really interested in getting an underage college student trashed in place of studying for finals.

"That's no fun..." Luke looked at him with pouty eyes and an almost puckered out lower lip.

"Neither are hangovers. Trust me, it's for your own good."

The younger boy sighed dramatically, and sprawled out on the couch so his feet propped up in Ashton's lap. And he was eyeing him. Almost daring him to tell Luke to get off.

"Not even if I said 'please?'" Luke batted his eyelashes.

"Nope."

"Pwetty pwease?" _That_ had caught Ashton's attention. And it only took a moment of hesitation for Luke—as tipsy as he already was—to catch up on it. "Oh pwease? I can take it," Luke cooed sitting up and getting closer to Ashton batting his eyelashes. Almost like he was trying to sit in his lap. "I pinky promise..."

"You pinky promise?" Ashton raised his eyebrows. He shouldn't have fed into it, and he knew it. But he couldn't stop himself. "Mmm..."

Luke pulled the blanket around the both of them and cuddled up. "Ashy..." he cooed.

It was like being pulled into a trance, looking into Luke's blue eyes already so close to his own. "What?" He hummed like it didn't shake him to the core.

"Will you let me try yours?"

"It's the same as _yours_."

"Then you can have some of mine, I just want a taste..."

Ashton, knowing he'd put extra rum in his, gave Luke the glass anyway. The icy liquid clinked the sides of the glass because of the movement, but it wasn't an unpleasant sound. Luke took a big sip.

He then immediately shook his head and handed it back to Ashton. "No, eugh..." he scrunched his nose and shivered. "That's _so_ much rum."

"Twice the amount you got, angel," Ashton cooed with a little twisted smirk. Feeling a little bit of a high from Luke not liking it. "Want some more?" He antagonized.

"No! Not at all. I only want mine." Luke went back to holding his own glass with both hands. But instead of leaving him cold, he cuddled up to Ashton even more.

Somehow—Ashton didn't know when—but his arm had snaked its way around Luke. And it was comfortable. He didn't feel the urge to pull away. He didn't even try to. He instead grazed his fingertips in a small fan just to feel the tingles in his fingers from the combination of the rum and the soft fabric.

"I like your pajamas..." Ashton cooed softly. He wasn't watching the show. But with the way his eyes never broke away from the screen or blinked, he'd bet Luke wasn't watching either.

"Thank you," came the quiet almost breathed response.

"You look beautiful..."

" _Thank you_ ," Luke's words were warm, and so were his eyes when he looked at him again.

And all at once, Ashton felt the edge of unease—an edge he'd never really noticed when they were completely sober—melt away. Like putting red, freezing hands over a warm fireplace. The thaw was electric, almost burning him up. He hadn't realized how cold he'd really been till faced with this heat.

"You're _so_ beautiful..." Ashton's voice never broke a low murmur, like it was a secret only Luke could hear.

Luke didn't pull away. If anything, he seemed to move closer. Ashton hadn't even seen him move, but somehow Luke's hand was sliding up his torso till he felt it rest over his heart. "I can't tell if you're making fun of me or not..."

"You know I wouldn't. And I'm not."

"Me?"

"Yes. _You_."

"You're the only guy to ever tell me that...other than friends, but I don't—." Luke visibly bit his lip to stop himself.

"No, finish," Ashton urged.

"Well I just...I don't wanna assume that...but I'd like for it to be—."

Ashton couldn't help but smile. "I thought you were decisive?"

"I _am_."

"Then say what's on your mind."

Luke opened his mouth to speak. Somewhere in the pause where they both waited for Luke's voice to catch up, they locked eyes again. The blonde'stwinkled with something other than Christmas lights and tipsiness.

But then instead of forming words, Luke's parted lips met Ashton's. Each of their little gasps proved neither expected the new embrace, but neither pushed it away either. Ashton's free hand cradled Luke's head, and tangled his curls in haphazard ringlets around his fingers.

His lips were soft, he could taste the cherry from the coke on them—and a bit of the rum if he searched for it. But he was preoccupied. Luke's arms hugged Ashton's waist closer. Gripped his shirt.

Not that Ashton minded. If anything, he was excited. He hugged Luke's waist, almost pulling him on his lap. He was more intoxicated by the smell of lavender on the blonde's skin than he was by any alcohol.

Which is why he was hesitant when Luke pulled their lips apart. Ashton must have had the most dazed expression, because Luke giggled softly and covered his mouth. "I'm sorry..." he whispered.

"Why are you apologizing?" Ashton cleared his throat and shifted to sit back up in his seat, having not realized how far forward he'd been sitting.

"I don't know..." the blonde bit his lip. "Kissing you, maybe.

"You don't have to apologize for that, baby, I liked it."

"You did?" Ashton could see Luke blush.

"Oh, I liked it a lot, and I can't wait for another." He brushed an out of place curl away from Luke's forehead. "But let's wait till tomorrow, now that the ice is broken."

Luke nodded giving him the poutiest look, and Ashton couldn't tell if he knew what he was doing or not. "Mkay, Ashy..." his voice was soft. Ashton's cheeks prickled with warmth.

Somehow Luke had managed to sit in Ashton's lap as they watched the show. And as if Ashton could be surprised anymore, his arms hugged Luke close in an embrace. "Don't fall asleep on me...we'll never leave."

"Mkay." But Luke was already laying on Ashton's shoulder. He could feel the cool of Luke's exhales. The tickle of his eyelashes when he blinked, and Ashton knew he wasn't leaving anytime tonight. He pulled the comforter around them and got comfortable enough just to close his eyes...


	5. Gingerbread Houses Roasting On an Open Fire

"Eugh, this is fucking disgusting," Calum scrunched his nose as he smelled the packaged icing. "Smells stale."

"Lemme smell," Michael leaned over. "Eww holy shit...why does it smell like toothpaste?"

"Fuckin putrid is what it smells like," Calum scrunched his nose.

Ashton raised brows and cast a side glance to Luke who looked somewhat excited for what they were about to do. Oh, the hope of the inexperienced.

"Let me smell," Luke cooed with a little giggle. But his face quickly soured. "Oh, that's...interesting..."

Calum laughed and offered some to Ashton who politely declined, "I vividly remember the way that shit smells, so I'll sit this one out, thank you."

"God, you know this shit's gonna look fuckin watery," Michael groaned pulling out the pieces of gingerbread it took to build the house. "It's not even gonna look like snow...or really even _icing_ at this point."

"At least not _that_ icing," Calum wiggled his brows.

Michael giggled. "Oh my god, oh my god. Put some on here..." Michael quickly removed the plastic from the main square and held it for Calum, who marked a diagonal line down the center. It was almost translucent white and so so thick.

"Holy shit!" Calum giggled as he drew.

"Oh my god..." Michael smirked. "Thats fuckin sick." Ashton couldn't tell in which way Michael meant, but his giggle made him think the good way.

Ashton on the other hand, shook his head. But while disapproving, he was unable to stop the corners of his mouth from turning up. "Are we twelve?"

"Yeah," Michael giggled, meanwhile Calum was drawing a penis with the icing. It was blotchy and kept running out in places making it look anatomically botched. It didn't help that he was laughing through it. "I guess we are."

"I don't understand," Luke chimed in with a confused sort of smile on his face. "It looks like icing."

Michael looked at Luke like he wasn't sure if he was kidding or not. But Luke wasn't, and when they all realized this, Calum just laughed harder, having to put the icing down.

"What? I'm missing something huge apparently," Luke blushed.

"Look what your filthy minds have done," Ashton spoke up, only adding fuel to Calum's laughing spell.

"Luke," Michael cooed, ignoring the both of them, but there was so much laughter in his eyes. "Look at the icing, and think of what _else_ it looks like..."

Luke furrowed his brows and inspected it. "It just looks like icing to me." Calum liked that answer a lot. "What is it?" Luke flushed in an almost palpable embarrassed anxiousness.

"It looks like cum, Lu..." Ashton cooed, finally letting him off the hook.

"Oh," Luke furrowed his brows looking at it, then his eyes widened, " _oh_! I see it now...I guess that makes sense..."

"Won't be able to unsee it," Michael giggled.

"God help this poor fucking gingerbread house," Calum wiped his eyes with his wrists—since his hands were covered with the substance in question—but kept laughing anyway.

Once they were halfway done with the house all four of them had a dedicated side to hold up. "I don't think this is edible. I mean look at the way it like cements together," Michael poked it

"If your shit does that, see a doctor..." Calum scrunched his nose.

"Imagine building a house and only using jiz as cement."

"You know, Mikey, I don't think that's gonna be a very sturdy house," Calum cooed softly.

"Not if you mix it into the cement."

"But wouldn't the point be to just have it as the cement?"

"No because it would never hold anything."

"So we're in agreement?"

"No, cause you can still put it into cement. Then it could be called: _Sement_! I'm a genius!" Michael grinned.

"Patent pending, hmm?" Calum teased. "That's the most useless shit I've ever heard of."

"I bet there's a market out there for it," Michael cooed. "Meanwhile our shack looks like it's been in a gang bang..."

"It's caving in on one side," Ashton pointed to Michael's side.

"No it was always like that. I think had the wrong side. Oh well, it's not like we're actually using this."

"So you don't leave it out till Christmas?" Luke piped up, a light blush was still on his cheeks Ashton noticed.

"No," Calum cooed, "Well unless you're making it out of caulk and card board."

"Or unless you want ants," Michael teased.

"So what's the point then?" The blonde looked confused. "I mean, I don't wanna eat stale gingerbread."

"I don't think there is a point, we just throw ours out afterwards." Calum shrugged.

"Yeah we should have just made gingerbread cookies and been done with it," Michael shrugged. "Maybe we'll remember next year."

"I need to go wash my hands if we're done with this shit," Ashton shook his head.

"Hey, spoil-sport, that's not the Christmas spirit," Calum cooed.

"Dare me to put icing on your face?" Michael cooed to Calum with a huge teasing grin.

"Is there any left?"

"Enough for what I wanna do..."

"Sure," Calum sighed. Neither caring nor embarrassed. And Ashton thought that was sweet, but he washed his hands anyway.

"Open your mouth with your tongue out," was all he heard before the water cut on.

He barely noticed Luke come up behind him. "Want some soap?" He offered pumping the foam onto his palm. Luke nodded and held out his hand.

Ashton didn't say much else. He did make room for Luke to wash his hands at the same time though. So they stood there, shoulder brushing shoulder. Neither one saying anything. Both pretending to not remember what happened—however pretending made it harder to forget.

Their hands brushed when the reached first the water at the same time. They both jerked back, but Ashton conceded to letting Luke wash off first. It was wordless. Ashton's eyes refused to meet Luke in general. Refused—in a way that must have been painful to witness—to acknowledge his existence at all.

Luke moved away from the sink, and Ashton's heart was in his throat. His mind full of thoughts like: "say something, you idiot," and "way to go, killer, you're only making it worse."

When they'd woken up in the middle of the night—after their tipsiness had worn off—it had been...awkward. The idea that romance just forms from a kiss only thought about when when drunk and flirting was a lie.

At least not for both people.

Because now Ashton couldn't get it out of his mind. The kiss formed something. It awoke thoughts he didn't know he was thinking. In a sense, it would have been better if he'd have pushed Luke away. It would have made Lukes reaction make sense.

Luke had cowered away from it. When they woke up, the blonde practically jumped out of his lap and wiped his face. "Why did you let me fall asleep?" He asked with furrowed brows.

"I—I..." Ashton had actually tried to answer. Like an idiot.

"I should have never let you talk me into drinking..." Luke said gathering papers on the table. "I have to study."

"You _already_ studied," Ashton finally caught up, he stood up and put the comforter on the couch. "You deserve a break."

"No. I'm gonna fail my finals and I'm gonna get kicked out of college."

"You're not gonna get kicked out of college."

"Because your so sure..."

"I happen to know that that's not how college works."

"I wasted too much time."

"You're eighteen. You need space to breathe!" Ashton told him, almost exasperated that he was having to tell him this.

"No! No, I don't! I can't mess around!" Luke's gaze fell to the papers and books in his hand. "I can't have any distractions."

There was a pause before Ashton spoke. "Well don't worry, I won't distract you anymore."

And then Ashton did the dumbest thing ever: he actually went to his room. In the constant replay of those moments in his head for the past sixteen hours, Ashton blamed it on the sting that he'd felt. He'd been kissed and slapped in the face, basically.

But the space between that moment and now just cast the strangest hue on it. And now, he was just confused instead of hurt. But confused silence and hurt silence are just as loud and awkward, so if they keep this up nothing will ever get solved.

They could let their tension grow tighter and tighter till something breaks. And at this point, Ashton was okay with that. Luke had made it clear what he wanted, who was he to disagree?

Calum, however, must have sensed the tension when he came to wash his own hands. "Hey," he hummed, icing all over his cheeks and nose. "Wanna smoke with me?"

Uh oh, Calum only offered that when he wanted a talk. "Sure," Ashton nodded.

"What the fuck is going on?" Calum breathed out smoke on the landing between the second and third floor of the apartment complex. The bone chilling wind blew the smoke back into the alleyway.

"You noticed, huh?"

"Ash, a _blind_ man would see this shit from a mile away."

Ashton rolled his eyes. "It's stupid..." but he explained anyway. Calum listened while he smoked, his face without expression till Ashton was done.

"First of all, you're an asshole," Calum cooed and took another hit.

"What? Me? I didn't do anything! I _reacted_."

"Poorly," Calum hummed. "Ash, Luke isn't like you. He's younger, first of all. And he's never had a boyfriend."

"Okay? And I would have been fine with being one. The idea was looking pretty good to me."

"God, you're impossible." Calum rolled his eyes. "He's scared, bro."

"He told you that?"

"No, but it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. He obviously thought the kiss was a mistake because from his perspective he forced himself on you, and when he got sober you didn't reassure him."

"Oh. I didn't think about it like that."

"Well," Calum raised his eyebrows rolling his eyes a bit. "Now you have. What are you gonna do about it?"

"Is there anything I _can_ do?"

"I'm not giving you all the answers, figure it out for yourself."

Ashton bit his lip. "So there's a chance I could maybe fix this?"

"Ashton, I have never known you not to talk your way out of anything. But first you have to figure out if this is something you really wanna do. Cause Luke isn't gonna change just cause you're with him. It's not gonna be perfect by any means."

"I know that."

"Okay but _remember_ that. And remember how easily this shit happened last night before you wreck not just both of your friendships, but all of ours."

Ashton thought about it and wondered why it even mattered. But it did. Shit...why the fuck did he have to have feelings for his friends's friend?


End file.
